


Autumn's Treasures

by Littletee



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Mutual Pining, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:47:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26265991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Littletee/pseuds/Littletee
Summary: "Just a few turns, Granger. A few twists shall do it. You can fall back, don't fight it. You will put it all to rights and you'll be back. Only you can save them all. You are the only one that can save us."Hermione Granger is cursed to experience autumn in both 1975 and 1995. Thankfully, along the way, an unlikely friendship is kindled between Hermione and a young Severus. Although, it doesn't take too long before both develop romantic feelings for each other...A somewhat typical Time-Turner story with a slight twist. Based on a Pairtober challenge I started sometime back on FFN but decided to revive and expand here. Which initially was simply a collection of interconnected drabbles and flashfics focusing on the wonderful season of autumn and all it entails-from comfy scarves to chilling frights-for both Hermione Granger and one Severus Snape.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Severus Snape
Comments: 15
Kudos: 28





	1. Day 1: Back to Hogwarts. Back to Classes and Magical Beasts...

Hermione awoke suddenly, her wand in her hand as she scanned the empty train compartment around her. Something was not right… but she could not determine what it was. 

In fact, she did not even remember boarding the Hogwarts Express or changing into her school robes sans her newly given Prefects badge, of course.

She must have been hit with a hex or a potion—she groaned as a flash of memory flared. She was at a desk, scrolls of papers rolled out before her, she was drinking her favorite limited time latte flavor… a bitter taste. Then another flash and she was standing robed in high ceremonial robes in the midst of a magic circle inscribed with runes, alchemy symbols, and... something else arcane. The moon was full and shone down upon her and five other robed wizards and witches. Their faces were obscured in the shadows of their raised hoods, and yet she didn’t sense that she was fearful of them. If truth be told, she had a strong impression that they were all her comrades. 

A flash, another memory, she threw down a vial after drinking its contents. Its shards mixing with those from previous vials… she must have drunk a cocktail of potions—never a good thing when one had foggy memories. Then she was grasping a Time-Turner but not like the one she had been issued way back in her third year, it was cylindrical with an enchanted floating hourglass bobbing in a whirlpool of some potion visible through the glass porthole, it had a graduated dial on the bottom end. The chain hung heavy on her shoulders as she glanced up to the robed figure, the one that was her best friend, waiting to hear his voice—his guidance. 

_Just a few turns, Granger. A few twists shall do it. You can fall back, don't fight it. You will put it all to rights and you'll be back. Only you can save them all. You are the only one that can save us._

His voice was so close to someone she knew… but who? 

She shook herself. This could be bits of a nightmare she had before waking, they did not necessarily mean they were honest memories. Especially when the full moon was days away not last night. 

Sighing she retook her seat just as the train lurched forward. A fresh dread washed over her when she finally noticed that none of her friends were there with her. They all could not have missed the train. Well, not Neville and Ginny at any rate. 

Forcing a small smile since it would not do to start a panic, at least not yet when all the facts were not known, she ventured out into the narrow train corridor. 

She did not worry when she did not recognize anyone from the gaggle of students dotted throughout that car—she was not all that well versed with the lower years after all. 

Worry spouted however after the third car and she still had not recognized anyone. Anyone! 

She quickly strolled back to her compartment and reclaimed her seat. This was not good. She had to have fallen victim to some cruel sorcery along the way.

She absently twirled her wand as she nervously chewed her bottom lip. 

Severus studied the twitching witch opposite him. She had not noticed him thanks to the use of one of his Invisibility Potion vials he had brewed and bottled last May after discovering its recipe and incantation—he had immediately recognized its potential to not only shield him from Potter and his gang but also from his father during the long summer months away from Hogwarts. Thankfully, using a potion did not count as underage use of magic. Lily was right in that potions were a rather underrated field of magic. Also, thanks to his foresight on casting his modified variant of the bedazzling hex upon his school trunk and bag before departing for the summer holidays there weren't any hints that he was there. Years of dealing with Potter, Black, and their lackeys had taught him to be well prepared to blend into his surroundings. 

This year he was riding without Lily due to her being appointed a Prefect and being inducted into Professor Slughorn's elite potions club. Two appointments that Severus had wanted but had been apparently denied—the part of him that was forever hopeful, was still grasping on the slim to none chance that he had simply been overlooked. That his missives had been lost with a wayward owl or accumulating dust in some outbox somewhere in the Wizarding United Kingdom. 

Severus highly suspected that this witch was the new transfer student from their sister school stationed in the wilds of the States that had been the main buzz throughout Diagon Alley last month. (After all, it was not every day nor generation when a transfer student was allowed admittance into Hogwarts.) He had not seen her around Hogwarts before and with that mane of hair, he would not have missed her. Especially since she looked like she was his age or one year younger, height or in this case lack thereof, always made gaging one's age difficult. 

Severus found her pleasant-looking until he saw the wisps of tears form and fall from her caramel eyes. 

He repressed a shudder yet could not stop himself from fidgeting. He did not know what to do when girls cried and that alone had always made him feel utterly uncomfortable. He closed his eyes when the girl wiped her tears on the sleeve of her robes after revealing that she had no tissues on hand. 

Severus stood. Maybe he would be fortunate and run into Lily between her Prefect’s orientation and Slughorn’s meet-and-greet. Perhaps they could even have a few minutes to share a box of Every Flavour Beans. He slowed while passing the silently crying girl and placed his spare handkerchief on her lap. 

Hermione did not notice the compartment’s door sliding open, pausing, then sliding close as her attention was fully engrossed upon the solitary ivory handkerchief that boasted a crest with a raven and bat standing rampant with a crown of holly encircling them. Below some scrollwork was the name Prince finely embroidered in silver thread. It was soft, clean, and sturdy. How had it come to be there, on her person? 

Not wanting to look a gift horse in the month she cautiously brought it to her eyes and wiped away her tears. 

In a few hours, she would be back at Hogwarts and she could, and would, visit Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore. From there she was confident that whatever hex or curse she had fallen victim to would be determined and rectified. She was sure by the start of classes everything would be back to normal—or close to normal for her and Hogwarts.


	2. Day 2: Crisp Morning Air

A gentle breeze drifted into the fifth year witches’ dormitory through the open slots of the jalousie windows that made up the wraparound bow windows that encircled each towered dorm room. The lacey curtains fluttered and curled around the beds nestled within. The rays of the approaching sunrise flirted with the light of the lone oil lamp flickering resolutely from the midst of the crescent-shaped room.

Hermione opened her eyes and with a resolved sigh she threw back her covers to prepare for the upcoming day. This had not been a dream and she was not dreaming now. She was captive in some complicated time magic web of enchantments, she had to be cursed to live one day in the past and one day in her present. 

Surprisingly she did not feel drained but rather refreshed. It was disconcerting in its illogicalness. 

At least nothing sinister had happened to Harry, Ron, or the rest of her friends. She had spent most of yesterday fearing what had happened to them until she had finally drifted off to sleep here in her new dorm room, surrounded by strangers.

Shrugging into her bathrobe Hermione tried to think about something less troubling, like this time’s schedule of classes she was enrolled in. They were similar to her own class load except for Principia Alkimia which had not been available nor had there been a substitute for Professor Binns since he had apparently taken a sabbatical in Troy to examine and evaluate a few historical conjunctures concerning the ancient and previously lost city. Hermione wished him well but also found herself almost giddy at the prospect of actually enjoying history again—she had always felt guilt for finding History of Magic to be such a chore when she had always enjoyed its Muggle counterpart. Now, with someone else at the lectern, she had high hopes of her previous passion for the subject returning. 

Then there was Potions. She knew what other students thought of Professor Snape’s tutelage being prone to House favoritism and his almost abusive teaching methods (the incident with Neville’s toad being a prime example), but even then she had found his expert knowledge irreplaceable… and if she was perfectly honest with herself, it had always thrilled her whenever he demonstrated how one brewed a certain potion—his motions were like watching graceful, powerful poetry in action. His barbed tongue and imposing manner did leave something to be desired, though. 

Picking up her wand from its holder she had hung on the wall, she waved it over the raised crest affixed to the cut, smooth stone that lined the large witches’ bathing room, and uttered, “Aqua subsisto.” With a small twirl of her wand, this time aimed at herself, she declared, “Ventum calidum siccum.”

Closing her eyes she allowed herself to bask in the comforting warmth of the warmed wind that was drying her and her hair within mere minutes. Oh, how she had missed this during the summer holidays!

From there it did not take Hermione long to finish her other morning ablutions and dress. 

The uniform was slightly different from her own time but the formal outer robes were the same which actually brought her comfort even though she dearly missed the scarlet and gold of her true school robes terribly. 

“Hermione? Want to walk with me to the Great Hall and share in our breaking of the fast?”

“Yes, thanks for asking Pandora.” Hermione grinned. Pandora was almost a mirror image of Luna, or rather she should say that Luna Lovegood had inherited much from her mother. 

Both witches chatted amiably between themselves as they made their way down to breakfast.

Hermione wrapped her scarf once more around her as she followed Pandora into the mostly quiet hall. The Head Table was fully staffed but the House Tables were mostly sparse. In fact, most students were not even staying at their own tables but eating beside and across from their friends from other Houses. It was a little unsettling to see, and that alone made her feel guilty of prejudice. Hadn’t the Triwizard Tournament and all the pettiness from Ron and others like Malfoy taught her nothing? 

Severus stood behind the new witch, a Hermione Granger according to the Hat, and raised an eyebrow. Apparently Ilvermorny had a different scheme for their meals, probably something like in House dinning or something else extravagant. 

After several beats had passed Severus’s patience grew thin and he pointedly cleared his throat. His lips twitched into a minute smile for a fraction upon seeing the girl jerk and turn to face him. Her eyes still as captivating as they had been on the train yesterday. Thankfully this time without the tears and the image of utter hopelessness. 

“You do know that you’re at the head of the queue?”

Hermione blinked before her eyes grew wide. “Pro—Snape?”

Severus’s humor cooled. Who had told her his name? Had she already befriended Potter or been seduced by Black? Either way, he could clearly not trust her… not yet. “Yes, Granger, what is it? I do wish to eat my meal _before_ lunch.”

Hermione stiffened but immediately backed away from her former or future professor. His black onyx eyes held her own prisoner as he coolly passed her to the—Gryffindor table! 

Surely he wasn't sorted there, his emerald green inner lining and the silver trimming of his robes bore testimony that he was Slytherin, so why… 

The question became crystal clear as Lily Evans, Harry's heroic and sweet mother although still some years off from motherhood, greeted Severus with a friendly yet weaning smile. Who would have guessed that Lily and Severus were classmates much less, friends?!

"Hmm, I guess Sybil was right, again. Their friendship is not to last past Hogwarts."

Hermione looked at Pandora. She wanted to ask more but a tendril of trepidation was already snaking its way around her. And it was binding her tongue with it. 

"Come let's eat by the fire. That way we can take off these scarves and mittens. Xen must be right that another ice age is upon us. "

Hermione followed Pandora but she found herself repeatedly looking back over at where Severus sat across from Lily throughout breakfast. Truly an unexpected friendship to be sure but it left more questions than answers in its wake. If Professor Snape had been friends with Harry’s late mother why did he seem to strive to provoke or ridicule Harry almost constantly? 

Halfway through her apple tart, she had her answer as one James Potter—for who else could it be when he appeared to be so like Harry?—cast a discreet knockback jinx on Severus causing him to fall off his bench, hard, as he plopped down where Severus had been.

The small scene continued to grow as Lily’s voice rose and Severus glared at James. Severus’s hand flexing and gripping his wand as he glared at James.

Harry was the son of a friend, true, but he was also the son and essentially the perfect likeness of an enemy, and Hermione knew all too well how the eyes could rule one’s emotions over reason. It did not excuse it but it certainly explained it. 

  
_“_ Poor Snape,” she whispered as she gathered her robes tighter to her to ward off the chill from both the air and the clear resentment that had been allowed to fester for twenty years. “Poor Harry.”


	3. Day 3: Jackets

Hermione tied her denim jacket around her waist as the afternoon sun shone down brightly through the arched windows of the Hogwarts library. The sun plus the moderate, dry air that had to be maintained via charms to keep all the books and papers from the hazards of nature within the library had succeeded in warming her from the chilled bitter morning that had encompassed the castle the past two mornings. 

Three days into living a flip-flop existence between her present time and now, the past, and she still hasn't gotten over the weather changes the most. In 1995 it was hot and muggy while here it was chilly yet dry. 

Granted pretty much everything about this bizarre incident was a shock to the senses. The one thing that didn't change was the library and Madam Pince—apparently, she was one of those people that always look the same young or old. Like some of the character actors from the telly. 

Hermione closed the volume of magical botany and was opening a tome concerning alchemical theory when someone loudly cleared their throat. 

Hermione immediately looked up to see Remus Lupin awkwardly smiling at her. 

"Hello Remus," her smile was genuine. Even though he was more boisterous than the timid, quiet professor she had first met two years ago he was still a decent person. Which was something she could not say about Sirius Black after witnessing his  _ pranks _ on a few first-year Slytherins.

"Mind if I join you? It just looks like you're working on that potions paper Professor Slughorn gave us and I think you have the whole potions section here on the table."

"Sure, I would love the company actually." Hermione quickly replied as she hastily moved a few books and scrolls aside to make room for Remus.

The next hour flew by amiably between the two. Hermione carefully explaining the reasons or rationale behind certain ingredients vs similar ones, etc. While Remus listened attentively and made a few notes for him to review later on his own. Sometimes an easy laugh would pass between then when Remus made a joke or a witty remark, and vice versa. 

Neither noticed a frowning Severus as he carried a stack of books pass them on his way to his own table where Lily was already sitting and revising the notes she had made in Defense. 

So Granger was friends with Lupin. 

  
He didn't know why that made him feel irritated, annoyed, and disappointed. It wasn't like they had been friends or had a chance to become ones. But, he couldn't shake the feeling that she didn't belong with him or his  _ friends _ . Probably thanks to her silent tears on the train… Severus didn't know what Lupin's stance (or the puppy clown one's either for that matter) was on crying but he knew all too well what Potter's and Black's opinions were on tears, and Lupin was strongly entrenched in Potter's gang of delinquents. He would have to keep an eye out for her. For her own good, of course. 


	4. Day 4: The Crunching of Leaves

“Who wants to wager that Severus’s  _ Muggleborn _ friend is in the stands again this year?” Mortimer Sweetwater loftily teased as he fitted his helmet snug against his already receding hairline. 

Severus silently laced his shin guards then stood and took his worn yet sturdy beaters’ bat from his locker. 

“It would not be practice if that Gryffindor witch wasn’t there cheering on ole Snappy. Now the question is whether that cute Mary is also there.” Sean Wood added as he fashioned his leather wrist guards and picked up his well-polished beaters bat. 

Severus refrained from rolling his eyes from the teasing banter of his teammates. He had to tolerate worse teasing before and he found if he didn’t react that the jeers and pokes would cease soon enough. They were never mean spirited, at least not here in the midst of his fellow Housemates and teammates, just more boisterous than he would have preferred. 

He had just taken hold of his refurbished Shooting Star X by its recurved handle when the sharp blast from their captain’s whistle snapped everyone to attention as all seven pairs of eyes looked to Isaac Monkcrest for his opening speech. 

Severus leaned against his locker and allowed his long bangs to obscure his face as he mentally toyed with a new hex idea as the pompous tones of Monkcrest filled the Slytherin Quidditch locker room. He knew Lily would not be there cheering him on this year, not with her new Prefect’s duties requiring her to make rounds, yet he would not allow it to dampen his mood. This year he had finally succeeded in snagging a position and not simply a _bench_ player, the reserve, but a beater. 

Besides Lily had promised him that she would still come during the matches—better then than now.

  
  
  


Hermione looked up from her books as the unmistakable sound of leaves being crunched under several pairs of shoes and stilled as she saw the Slytherin Quidditch team saunter onto the Quidditch Pitch. It wasn’t so much that they had come out to practice at this time of day nor was it that they were wearing an odd cross between Muggle and Wizarding athletic uniforms but that one of the players was none other than Severus Snape. She knew that he had to be well versed in Quidditch; he had substituted for Madam Hooch back in her first year, but she had never dreamed he played it back in his youth. 

He looked rather attractive. 

Gasping at her own wayward thinking, Hermione quickly looked away from the pitch and back to her theory of quantum magicks. She was not checking out a professor! Even if he wasn’t one yet… at this time… and actually in her year. 

Hermione forced herself to drop the matter and focus. She needed to find out how to stop this yo-yo-ing back and forth, thus she cast a handy charm that dampened sounds around her and leaned into the text, her hair forming a natural blinder to the world. She missed the startled look that captured Severus’s features as he spotted her studying in the empty stands. 

She also missed the poor attempts from Sweetwater to impress her, or the small fight between Wood and Randell nor the bludger Wood hit barrelling straight towards her. 

“Oi! Look out!”

“Fire in the hole!”

Severus cursed, leaned into his broom handle, his bat raised high as he soared speedily to the nescient Granger. The sound of his bat hitting the rogue bludger was still deafening despite the charm and Hermione jerked back. 

For a long moment, caramel eyes met Stygian ones as both caught their breath. 

“Thank you,” Hermione breathlessly said after her heart had slowed somewhat down.

“Just keep your wits when you study around here.” Severus shrugged before a faint smile tugged at his lips. “I won't save you a second time.”

Hermione blinked but before she could find a retort Severus flew away, back to his teammates.

What else had she expected, really? A “You’re welcome” from Snape? 

She laughed. Like that would happen.


End file.
